


A Blind Guy Goes to a Baseball Practice

by AcesOfSpade



Series: The Murdock Twins Fic Dumping Ground [1]
Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Baseball, First Kiss, Foggy keeps calling matt pretty, M/M, Matt's a little shit, Mutual Pining, Playgrounds, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, he also has A Lot of opinions on Matt's face, jack has one (1) line of dialogue and its a dad joke, mike and the defenders are the most reckless baseball team to ever exist, pure fluff, the murdocks have a dog named daredevil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 11:03:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18030515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcesOfSpade/pseuds/AcesOfSpade
Summary: Mike Murdock only invites his twin brother Matt to his baseball practices if he's planning something. This week is no exception. After all, the concession stand boy Matt has a crush on happens to have time off during Mike's practice, and Matt's too much of a Murdock to make a move.(feat Ultimate WIngwoman Patsy Walker as Mike's partner in crime)





	A Blind Guy Goes to a Baseball Practice

**Author's Note:**

> ........this was supposed to be an excuse to make 'batting for the other team' and 'batting for both teams' jokes. Instead, I have produced the gayest fucking thing, like o h m y g o d
> 
> Granted, the tooth-rotting fluff was a nice change from the two Daredevil fics I posted yesterday. This one doesn't have any crying ~~there's no crying in baseball, after all~~

"Matt, I swear to  _God_ if you touch my ball bag again, you'll wish you were just blind!"   
  
Mike Murdock's utterly unamused shout echoed through the house as he kicked off his dirty cleats at the back door before heading right to the kitchen.  
  
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Mike," Matt smirked into his drink, playing innocent even though he knew he was absolutely guilty every single time.  
  
"Oh, don't play dumb with me, dickhead. What did you do with my batting gloves this time?" Mike countered, annoyed. "I had to borrow an extra pair from Luke. Luke's palms alone are as big as my head," he said flatly. "Your ass is lucky tonight was only practice, or I'd have to enact my revenge."  
  
"You say that every time, man. Maybe if you'd actually follow through on your threats, I'd consider not sticking your batting gloves in the dog's crate," Matt smirked, snickering at the sharp exhale that came through Mike's nose.  
  
"If that little shit wrecked my gloves..." Mike muttered as he went straight to Daredevil's crate in search of his gloves. "You're safe this time, asshole."  
  
"Nice talk, same time next week?" Matt called over as Mike stomped off to his bedroom. Riling Mike up was just way too easy. All he had to do was take any one thing from Mike's baseball bag and hide it on practice days. It never failed to amuse him.

* * *

"Hey Mattycake, why don't you and Daredevil come to the ball diamond for practice tonight?" Mike asked the next week, and Matt knew he was up to something. Mike never invited Matt to practice unless he had some sort of scheme in mind, let alone suggest he bring the dog. Daredevil  _loved_ getting into places he really shouldn't. Last time Daredevil was at the ball field, he ended up on top of the metal swingset at the playground. At least, that's where everyone told Matt he ended up.  
  
"What's in it for me?" Matt countered with a raised eyebrow. He'd probably end up going anyway, he just wanted to see how long he could string his brother along.  
  
"Fresh air, human interaction, chance to flirt with the guy who works the concession stand on Tuesday nights," Mike listed off, very much enjoying how flustered Matt got when he mentioned the last thing.  
  
"I don't flirt with him," Matt mumbled, his cheeks turning more and more red each second.  
  
"Suuuure you don't, pal," Mike snorted. "And Daredevil's a purebred."  
  
Considering said dog was sitting in Matt's lap, Matt jokingly covered the dog's ears with a fake gasp.  
  
"How dare you!" Matt chided dramatically. "He may be a mutt, but he's our mutt! Isn't that right, Daredevil?" he protested, the last part directed at the dog as he scratched behind his ears.  
  
"So will you come?" Mike tried again, propping his elbows on his knees from the couch across from the chair Matt was sitting in.  
  
"I'm not bringing the dog," Matt sighed as if Mike was twisting his arm. "Don't feel like playing 'Where In the Park is Our Damn Dog?' tonight," he joked, nudging Daredevil off his lap and grabbing his phone from the coffee table.  
  
"Cane or no cane tonight?" Mike asked as he got up to go change into his practice clothes and grab his stuff.  
  
"No point, too much grass," Matt responded, ducking down to the basement for a minute.  
  
"Hey Dad, Mike's dragging me to his practice tonight, we'll be back same time as always," he shouted above his Dad's training music. The basement was basically a boxing-oriented home gym, and when Jack Murdock wasn't working, he was training.  
  
"Watch for potholes!" Jack called back teasingly, earning its desire chuckle out of Matt as he headed back upstairs.  
  
"Pothole joke again?" Mike chuckled as he finished tying his cleats.  
  
"Pothole joke again," Matt confirmed, wordlessly grabbing Mike's elbow as they left the house.

* * *

"It smells like someone burned a tree," Matt declared as they approached the field, his nose wrinkling in disgust.   
  
"Probably the tree farm next door again," Mike reasoned. "Is it too strong?"  
  
"As long as you're practicing on the diamond in the back corner, I'll be fine," Matt assured him. He really wanted to know what Mike was planning, because he usually told Matt to suck it up; he really wanted Matt here tonight for some reason.  
  
"Good old diamond five," Mike grinned. "Coach books it for as many practices as the league will let him."  
  
"Guess it's my lucky day then," Matt joked, wondering if Mike forgot he could hear a lot better than Mike could when he heard Mike muttering 'you have no idea' under his breath.  
  
"Is it just me seein' double right now? Or is there two Murdocks tonight?" came the booming voice of Luke Cage, a joke he made every. single. time Matt was at a practice or a game.  
  
"Luke, buddy, that joke got old last summer," another player, Danny Rand, chided with an amused smirk. "Hey Matt, been a while since you came by. Welcome back to everyone's favourite Tuesday night program, HK Defenders Practice," he joked with a shit-eating grin.  
  
"Hey guys," Matt chuckled, letting Mike lead him over to the bleachers before dropping his elbow. "Hey Jess, Patsy here tonight?" he called over to the dugout where Jessica Jones was fixing the laces on her first baseman's glove.  
  
"She's getting snacks," Jess called back with an amused eyeroll. Whenever the two of them were at a practice at the same time, Patsy appointed herself Matt's personal play-by-play announcer so he too could understand how fucking idiotic this team was.  
  
"Brought a friend too," Patsy called from the top of the hill separating the concession stand from diamond five. Indeed, there was a second set of footsteps shadowing Patsy, a second  _very_ familiar heartbeat coming from behind him.   
  
"They're putting in new equipment tonight, so I figured I'd come see if the rumours about practices with the Defenders are true," Patsy's companion said as he and Patsy decided the best places to sit on the virtually empty bleachers were on either side of Matt.   
  
Matt convinced himself he imagined the little happy-surprised change in the other boy's heartbeat after Matt accidentally brushed his fingers on his arm trying to stretch. He had to have imagined it, a projection of his pathetic crush on the guy. What would a literal ray of sunshine like Foggy Nelson see in Matt of all people?   
  
"We're starting off strong, Matt," Patsy giggled. "Your brother's knuckleball is still the single worst pitch I have ever seen, and he just wedged it in the last row of links at the top of the backstop," she informed him.  
  
"Fuck's sake, will he ever stop trying to make that pitch work?" Matt snorted, poking the air to his left until he found Patsy's arm to bum a handful of popcorn off of her. He was hungry, and he may or may not want to show off his popcorn-catching abilities to Foggy.  
  
"He gave up on the knuckleball," Jess relayed. "He's now aiming splitters at water bottles balanced on Danny, Luke, and Frank's heads."  
  
"Five bucks says he gives Danny  _another_ concussion," Matt drawled, tossing a piece of popcorn into the air and catching it in his mouth without really thinking about it.  
  
"I'm sticking a five in your pocket, because Mike just beaned Danny's temple with a four-seam fastball, like a dumbass," Patsy conceded, following through on her word and gave Matt a five.

* * *

As usual, the antics stopped as soon as the coach showed up, everyone sobering up almost instantly when they heard the team equipment bag hit the dirt in the dugout.   
  
"Okay, fun stuff's good and dead. Let's go do something fun while these idiots run drills for the next hour," Patsy declared, balling up her empty snack wrappers and throwing them in the bin next to the bleachers.  
  
"Patsy, the only source of entertainment in the park is the playground, which is 85% monkey bars," Matt pointed out flatly, raising an eyebrow. "In case you forgot, I'm blind. Monkey bars are a no-go."  
  
"10 of that remaining 15% includes swings and a merry-go-round," Patsy reminded him. "We have new blood to initiate."  
  
Matt's face split into a devilish grin that Foggy should  _not_ have found as attractive as he did. Truth be told, he'd never seen an expression on Matt's face that he _didn't_ find attractive. He would've probably stared at that smile for a little while longer if he wasn't concerned about his safety.  
  
"What do you mean?" Foggy blinked.  
  
"Whenever Matt and I have worthy company watching these jackasses, we give them a nice little taste of what it's like spending too much time around Hell's Kitchen's most infamous baseball team," Patsy explained.  
  
"You're not going to hurt me, right?" Foggy swallowed nervously. He had a bad track record with reactions to being injured more severely than a scrape or a bruise.  
  
"Not on purpose," Matt promised, and Foggy believed him. "First things first, someone is helping me off these bleachers so  _I_  don't get hurt," he pointed out. Sure, he could get down just fine on his own, but a) everyone but Mike thought he was totally blind, and b) he kinda maybe wanted Foggy to offer so he had an excuse to touch him.   
  
"I can help," Foggy offered, and Matt had to stifle a stupid grin.   
  
Matt's hands had briefly brushed Foggy's when he was buying snacks, but the feeling of Foggy's hand around his wrist as he guided Matt to the ground felt a  _lot_ nicer than Matt assumed it would.   
  
Once on solid ground, the trio set course for the playground, Foggy not letting go of Matt's wrist. Matt was kind of internally short-circuiting both because Foggy was touching him and because if Matt moved his wrist just right, he could grab Foggy's hand and hold it properly.  
  
When they finally reached the playground and Foggy (reluctantly, Matt noticed) let go of Matt's wrist, Matt  tried his damndest not to make what Mike called his 'disappointed puppy-dog whine' at the loss of contact.  
  
"Pick your poison, Nelson. Will it be a height contest against me on the swings or an endurance test with Matt on the merry-go-round?" Patsy smirked. It was just a formality, really, because she knew and expected him to choose Matt.   
  
"I'll take my chances with the merry-go-round," Foggy decided, even though he got motion sick really easy. He'd take any chance to be near Matt.  
  
"Hope you don't puke easily," Matt warned cheerfully, following the path to the merry-go-round he knew oh so very well. "My record is two and a half hours. Our longest-lasting initiate went six and a half minutes."   
  
Jesus Christ that _smirk_. Not to mention the underlying challenge in Matt's tone sent a shiver down his arms as he positioned himself across from Matt at the centre of the merry-go-round, facing him. The size of the thing meant their knees were pressed together so they both fit well enough.  
  
"Ready, boys?" Patsy smirked, grabbing part of the merry-go-round and giving it a hefty spin without waiting for an answer. She gave it a few more spins for good measure before pulling out her phone to start the stopwatch. "Oh, by the way, Matt likes to cheat," she told Foggy casually, a glint in her blue eyes that suggested something was going to happen.  
  
"You call it cheating, I call it strategic topics of conversation," Matt shot back with  _that_   _fucking grin_ from earlier. If Matt kept grinning like that, the butterflies in Foggy's stomach would definitely aid in his defeat. He was very glad right then that Matt couldn't see how red his face was just from that grin, though he hoped they were spinning fast enough that Patsy couldn't see.   
  
"You've passed the five minute mark," Patsy announced. Shit, it had been that long already? Foggy must've lost track of time appreciating Matt's face. There were subtle differences between the Murdock twins that Foggy could pinpoint on Matt in seconds, though he'd be embarrassed to admit it was because he liked staring at Matt whenever he had an opportunity. Creepy? Absolutely, but Matt was just so  _pretty_ and Foggy was  _w e a k._  
  
"Jesus, this is the quietest run yet. Say something, anything. This silence is unsettling," Patsy basically demanded, and Foggy took the 'anything' prompt and ran with it.  
  
"You have  _really pretty_ eyes," Foggy found himself saying, face darkening its shade of red.   
  
"Really?" Matt blinked in surprise, and Foggy decided eyelashes that long were Illegal. "People tell me I should keep my shades on, so no one has to see them," he mumbled.  
  
"People are stupid, because your eyes are beautiful," Foggy said, cheeks probably more red than the flaking paint on the nearby swingset.  
  
"You really this so?" Matt asked in surprise, and holy hell Matt Murdock was _blushing_ , and  _Foggy_ was the one who caused it. If it weren't for the merry-go-round, Foggy would've thought this was a dream or something, but no, this was actually happening. Foggy felt light-headed, and it wasn't from the merry-go-round. No, Matt was smiling again, doing what Foggy assumed was his best attempt at looking at Foggy with the most adorably awestruck smile, as if he wasn't used to people complimenting him the way Foggy just had. The longer they both stayed put and not puking, the faster Foggy's resolve was slipping. Between the smiles and how his hair blew around his head like a halo, Foggy found himself leaning slowly closer to Matt, who had no clue Foggy had moved closer until Foggy accidentally bumped his forehead against the top of Matt's head.  
  
"Shit, sorry. Are you okay?" Foggy apologized, heart racing faster than the merry-go-round was spinning.  
  
"I'm okay," Matt assured him, though he could feel his own heart beat pulsing through every one of his veins. He was vaguely aware that Patsy had just called out a time, but the sounds of the world around Matt were drowned out by the sounds of two pounding hearts and the faint squeaking of the ancient merry-go-round underneath them.   
  
Feeling a surge of... something, Matt reached out with his hands to find Foggy's face.   
  
Foggy's face, as Matt found out, was pleasantly squishy. Where Matt and his brother had sharp angles and hard edges, Foggy had smooth curves and soft contours.   
  
Of course, with his hands on Foggy's face, Matt could feel the heat rising to the surface.   
  
Matt's eyelashes were no longer the only thing Illegal about Matt's face, because now he had his bottom lip pulled between his front teeth and Foggy had to swallow the noise that wanted to crawl out of him at the sight.   
  
"Y'know what, fuck it," Matt muttered to himself, pulling Foggy's face closer and kissing him as firmly as he could on a spinning merry-go-round.   
  
Okay so Matt's lips were good for a lot more than just smirking and grinning like Lord Satan or an incubus, something like that. Foggy couldn't think properly because  _Matt was kissing him._  
  
Foggy's hands found Matt's wrists as he kissed back, carefully circling them so he could at least touch some part of Matt as they kissed.  
  
Far too focused on each other, neither teen noticed that the merry-go-round had slowed to a stop on its own, nor the fact that the team had wandered over to find where the three spectators had gone. Patsy, the little evil genius she was, had casually started filming the two of them when Foggy first complimented Matt's eyes, and she was definitely sending it to everyone else.  
  
Mike was leaning against the swingset with his arms crossed over his chest and ball bag at his feet, a pleased smile on his face. When he found out the concession stand was getting new equipment installed during practice that day, he was determined to get Matt out of the house and to the ballpark, because Mike wanted his brother to be happy. Matt had a habit of denying himself certain things that brought him happiness, which was probably why he'd just pined from afar for so long. He didn't think he was good enough, didn't think he deserved it. Mike decided to give him a nice shove in the right direction, with Patsy's help of course.   
  
Somehow, even after the kiss broke, neither Foggy or Matt noticed their audience.   
  
"Do you... are you busy tomorrow afternoon?" Foggy asked, a little breathless. Matt could only shake his head, for once in his life not able to form the words required the speak. "Would you like to hang out?"  
  
"Definitely," Matt smiled, and Foggy decided  _that_ was unquestionably the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.


End file.
